The Deadly Assassin Robin (Tristan Storm) novel Chapter 452

Chapter 452 Turf Wars 

Chapter 452 Turf Wars 

+5–Free Cons 

Lincoln was boiling with rage, desperate to kill Robin. He dialed his brother, Scott, immediately. 

At that moment, Scott was up in the top–floor luxury suite of a hotel, sharing drinks and swapping stories with Desmond Osborne, head of the Osbornes from Brookhaven. 

His face went dark as soon as Scott took Lincoln’s call. “Mr. Osborne, I need to head down to the fourth floor to care for something. You go on without me.” 

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Desmond asked casually, “What’s going on, Scott? Something wrong?” 

Scott replied in a low voice, “Some guy named Robin from Harmonfield just attacked my brother at my hotel! D*mn it, he’s asking for death!” With that, he stormed off, leading a group of bodyguards down to the fourth floor. 

It took Desmond a moment to process. Robin from Harmonfield?No way–that guy’s a walking curse! And he just beat up Lincoln, that old lecher? 

He thought about stopping Scott, but the man was already out the door. 

Scott arrived outside Room 403, spotting Mark and a few others standing guard. He barked, “Who the hell are you, causing trouble in my hotel? Beat them up!” 

With a shout, his dozen or so bodyguards charged forward. 

Mark and Ernest looked over at Robin. 

Robin said coldly, “Show no mercy to these thugs–let them have it!” 

“Yes, sir!” Mark and his team didn’t hesitate, launching into a full–force assault. 

Despite their numbers, Scott’s bodyguards were no match for Mark’s team, a group of seasoned fighters, trained to kill. In under two minutes, every single guard was on the ground. 

There was no holding back–every move drew blood, every hit broke bones. Scott watched in shock as Mark and his men attacked so ruthlessly. Only now did he notice the intense aura of bloodlust radiating from them. 

Today, he’d run into pros. 

He glared darkly at Robin in the room and the fallen Lincoln on the floor, forcing himself to suppress the burning anger in his chest. Mark and his associates‘ fighting skills made him somewhat wary. 

After all, having spent years navigating the criminal underworld, he knew there were some people he simply couldn’t afford to cross. 

Before making a drastic move, he knew he had to gauge his opponent’s strength. 

He turned to Robin and asked, “Mind telling me what exactly my brother did to offend you?” 

Before Robin could reply, Lincoln cried out, “Scott, I was just in the middle of a business deal with Vera and Sarah from the Silva Group, and they just barged in and beat me up!” 

Scott’s face darkened. “Look, that’s crossing a line. You can’t just go around hitting people for no reason, right?” 

1/3 

14:52 Sat, 30 Nov 

Chapter 452 Turf Wars 

Robin looked down at Lincoln with a cold, mocking smile. “Too scared to own up, aren’t you?” He punctuated his words with a brutal stomp, shattering the bones in Lincoln’s other leg. 

A scream of sheer agony filled the room as both of Lincoln’s legs were reduced to shattered fragments beneath Robin’s foot. 

Scott’s face twisted with anger as he snarled, “You’re way too cocky, kid! Stirring up trouble on my turf- aren’t you afraid you won’t make it out of here? 

“Why don’t you ask around and find out who Scott is in this city?” 

Robin raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re someone I should care about? You think I’m scared of whatever dirty tricks you might pull?” 

Scott snarled, “Scared? You should be. You don’t know what happens to people who mess with me on my turf–they end up dead!” 

Robin shrugged. “Oh, you want to play? Let’s play” 

Scott stiffened, sizing Robin up coldly. “Kid, if you’re begging to die, I’ll grant that wish.” He sneered, “In this city when I make a move, the ground shakes.” 

“Oh really?” Robin laughed, unfazed. “Well, go ahead, then.” 

At that moment, Desmond arrived, catching sight of Robin through the doorway. He paled, quickly retreating behind the crowd and dialing Scott’s phone. ‘Scott, I’d advise you not to touch the guy inside.” 

Scott scoffed. “What do you mean?” 

Desmond whispered, “Scott, do you know what happened to the Slaters and the Landers in Brookhaven?”